Parallels
by ficpants
Summary: A collection of stories from the point of view of an Enchanted Forest character and their Storybrooke persona.
1. Vulnerable

**Disclaimer:** Once upon a time I pressed rewind and stole this idea from Adam and Eddy. JK!

**A/N:**So I had tried a new style of writing with my first OUAT fic, _He Likes Snow,_and I liked it. It's very much a departure from my normal style of writing, which is centered around dialogue advancing plot. I know the name isn't very original, so sorry, but this will basically be a series of short stories told from a character's Enchanted Forest persona and their Storybrooke one with a common thread. And while I do like writing for Charming/David Nolan (slight amnesia is like a writer's playground), I will try to branch out and write from other perspectives. That's the plan at least.

I'm also going to keep track of when I write these, as I expect things will change as the plot unfolds some more and provides more context. This fic was written after 1.08- "Desperate Souls"

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><p><em>Charming<br>_

Ever since the Blue Fairy had found the enchanted tree, Snow was sleeping normally. He however, was not. He would lie on his back, staring into the night, spinning his wedding band on his left finger endlessly until his skin would chafe. He would listen to his lovely wife's steady breathing lead to steady snores. Loud snores.

_Bet you wouldn't have kissed her if you knew how bad her snoring was,_ Grumpy had snorted when he had asked the dwarfs for advice. _Her huffing and puffing damn near blew our whole place down._

_We learned quickly to fall asleep before her,_ Doc added unhelpfully.

He couldn't fall asleep easily anymore though, not when his heart was heavy with the thought that Evil Queen was coming for his wife and their child. He grew up in simpler times, it seemed. They hadn't been the richest, but he had been happy. Now, surrounded by wealth and married to a woman he loved with a child on the way, having it all meant nothing if he couldn't protect his family. The anxiety and uncertainly was overwhelming.

One day though, Snow was fidgeting in her sleep and rolled on top of his arm. In an attempt to escape from the snores right next to his ear, he found himself face-to-face with his wife's round belly. Though he knew it was helpful to talk to the baby, it still felt a bit odd. He started by talking about the weather in a hushed voice, and when Snow stayed steadfastly asleep, he started to talk more. _Emma, let me tell you the story of how I met your mother…_

It quickly became a nighttime ritual, and he found that it was easier to fall asleep after talking to the baby. That even though they might be separated in some way, he still once had this connection with her. _Baby girl,_ he would say as he softly caressed the bump, _I just want you to know how much your mom and I love you. How much I wish I could say with certainty that we will teach you how to swim, to ride horses, to wield a sword, or to use a bow and arrow…all with the hope that you'll never have to resort to fighting and killing people like we have, of course._

He told her his hopes and dreams for her future, that she would grow up loved but not spoiled, that she would have the freedom that her parents never had. He told her of his childhood, the twin he never knew, how difficult the price could be to protect someone you love, and how he wished that she would never have to know that feeling.

_I just want you to know_, he said, finally running out of things to say, _that I love you so much. I don't know if I'll ever know you, or how much time we'll have together, but I will always protect you. I'll always want you to be happy. I know you'll be your mother's daughter and be strong and tough and hardheaded. Just remember that it's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. The people that love you will support you no matter what._

He let out a huge sigh of relief. After many nights of talking to his daughter, he finally felt at peace with the inevitable curse. He had told Emma everything that needed to be said.

_Well_, he said as an afterthought, _maybe you should stay away from apples. Your mother has had terrible experiences with them.  
><em>

/

_David Nolan  
><em>

He's meticulous in how he staples the flyers advertising Sidney for Sheriff. He enjoys the job, mostly because he's discovered he's a bit of a neat freak and nothing looks better than a neatly posted poster with clean lines. Frankly, he could care less about the sheriff's position. He's sad that Graham is gone, but he also doesn't understand why there needs to be an election in the first place. Sidney runs a newspaper, Emma is the deputy. He knows that he lost his memory about some things, but had Storybrooke always been this…dumb?

He knows, though, that he'll be voting for Sidney. It's not worth getting into an argument with Kathryn about, not when their relationship as a whole has been on constant thin ice. Besides, crime in Storybrooke has been, Kathryn assured him, practically non-existent for as long as anyone could remember. Throwing an editor into the sheriff's office without any training in this situation was fine.

Fine was not the same as reassuring, but he didn't bother questioning the logic. Sidney seemed nice enough, and certainly capable enough to balance two jobs. Sidney was also the one who helped find him the job at the animal shelter, so he felt the need to repay a favor. One vote wouldn't change things much.

_David, hi_.

Mary Margaret. He watches her staple one poster haphazardly, which sorts of bothers him. It's brief, but he's still surprised. He shouldn't be, but he hadn't realized how much he had put her on a pedestal. And yet, even though her crooked and not-quite-stapled poster irked him, it also amused him. It was…cute, in a way. As was her hat. And her smile.

He brings up Kathryn, because he needs to think of his wife before he thinks of Mary Margaret any more.

She rushes off with the excuse of finding more posters, leaving part of her second poster unstapled and flapping in the slight breeze. He looks around cautiously before reaching over and stapling it firmly against the board, his neatly horizontal staples lining up as best as he could next to her crooked ones.

_And the worst part of this is…the worst part of this is, I let you all think that this is real. I can't win that way. Sorry._

There were murmurs after Emma left the stage, but the town quickly quieted down as the mayor stood up and took the stage.

_Well, there's no use in any more formalities_, she remarked. _Let's just get this vote over with, and may I remind you that the candidate left is one who knows the town, and isn't an outsider. His roots, like yours, are in Storybrooke. Sidney would make an excellent sheriff._

The subtext was clear. Next to him, Kathryn scribbled down Sidney's name before rising quickly, telling him that when he was done, she would be with Regina. He had merely blinked and nodded, not understanding why he couldn't make up his mind. Sidney was…sort of a friend. He had already decided to vote for Sidney, even if he wasn't very qualified.

He barely knew anything about Emma, only that she lived with Mary Margaret. She seemed nice, even if she had horrible taste in leather jackets. But more importantly, tonight she had proven to be trustworthy. It was brave to tell the truth, especially if it meant calling out a powerful man like Mr. Gold.

It also made her vulnerable, stepping out of the comfort zone that Mr. Gold's connections and influence could afford her. He could sympathize with feeling uncertain.

Sidney was a straight staple. Enthusiastic yet predictable, always staying on the same path. Emma was a crooked staple, a wildcard. Sometimes though, the road less traveled was the most rewarding one.

He tentatively picked up his pen. Taking a deep breath, he wrote down his choice before he could change his mind. Besides, his was only one vote.

Sidney smiled warmly at him as he dropped his vote into the box in front, he smiled weakly back before quickly turning away. He caught a glimpse of Mary Margaret talking with Archie in a corner and his heart fluttered a bit.

He probably shouldn't have voted for Emma, but it seemed that he had a soft spot for crooked staples.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thank you for reading! I hope I didn't beat the crooked staple metaphor to death. And yes, I did needto put in a HIMYM reference because of Jennifer Morrison. I noticed I did had serious formatting issues, and it seems like this site and I are not really getting along at the moment. I apologize if the fic appears in all italics, it's not supposed to be like that.

(I do love reviews)


	2. Trapped

**A/N:** Obviously, I don't own OUAT but I found the character of genie/Mirror/Sidney to be incredibly interesting. He's a bit of a chameleon! I find subjects like betrayal and self-loathing very interesting topics so I have a feeling I'll be revisiting his character often if they draw out this double agent business. And of course, this was written after 1x11: Fruit of the Poisonous Tree (a very interesting law principle too)

P.S. I had major major major formatting issues with the first chapter so please let me know if there's any wonky formatting going on (ie the story being all in italics). As always, any feedback would be lovely.

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><p><em>Mirror<em>

He sighed glumly as he watched the queen cry quietly. Though he knew he shouldn't believe that they were real, he wished that he could take her into his arms and wipe away her tears.

Oh, how many times he had seen the way love ruins lives! He had never thought he would be one to fall victim, and yet he had never dared to dream that he could ever find love. The minute he had laid eyes on the queen, he was hers. The one brief kiss they had ever shared in front of the apple tree, the only kiss he had ever known, had left him delirious and wanting more. Being trapped in a mirror had forced him to face the truth: He had been blinded by beauty and sugared words, he had betrayed the only person who had ever shown him true kindness, then betrayed again by the one he thought was his one true love.

It had been a mistake to talk to the king before he succumbed to death. His heart still felt guilty; that is, if he even had a heart anymore. It had been a greater mistake to use the last wish.

_You know the rules_, one of the other genies had said scornfully, examining his fingernails. _To undo the magic you would have to find another lamp with one of us inside and rub it. Which would be difficult, I suppose, seeing as how you no longer have hands._

Yet another genie had been deservedly harsher. _In all our years, in all our time, and I have never seen a stupider genie to squander freedom on the promises of false love. Now leave my mirror, stalker._

Within a day, desperation led to denial, denial to quick and quiet acceptance. Now, as he looked upon the queen's quiet sobs, he remembered the last time he had seen her so emotional. She hadn't been crying then, but her hatred had been undeniably genuine.

She had smiled triumphantly as he struggled to get out of the small, handheld mirror. _Well, it looks like you got your wish. You will be with me forever._ She had preened a bit then, no doubt pleased with how things had worked out. _Now tell me genie…or should I say, mirror. Mirror, who's the fairest of them all?_

He stopped his struggling, knowing the answer. _My dear, there is no competition_

She smiled. _Tell me._

He had countered her smile with a bitter one of his own. _In your heart, you know the truth._

_Say it_, she commanded.

_Snow, your majesty,_ he had said in a spiteful tone._ Snow White is the fairest of them all._

With a scream, she had thrown the handheld mirror, the only link he had to his past, across the room. He braced for impact, wondering if death would be greet him calmly, only to hear the distinct sound of glass shattering, and felt then a soft pinch. When he opened his eyes, he was across the room in a small mirror on the table.

_Skin as white as snow!_ he shouted triumphantly, seeing the queen turn around in anger and horror, wondering where the voice was coming from._ Lips as red as blood._

With a snarl, she stalked towards the small mirror. As a small box crashed through his face, he felt another pinch and was whisked away to the largest mirror hanging on the wall. _Hair, as black as ebony!_

The queen whirled about again, her own hair in disarray, her eyes wild at his taunting. _SILENCE!_

_As long as Snow White lives, you will NEVER be the fairest._

She had stopped her rampage then, a slow smile spreading across her face. And once again, he wished that he had kept his mouth shut. He shuddered slightly, as much as he could anyway, as she dropped the golden paperweight she had been carrying and slowly slithered toward the mirror.

_You're right,_ she said, slowly stroking the mirror glass. Though he couldn't feel her touch, her voice had taken on that intoxicating tone that spelled danger, but the one he couldn't fight against. _As long as Snow White lives…_

_I was just going to imprison her, I never liked her anyway. She acts so innocent and pure but she is NO saint. You're right Mirror, I have no use for her. Her value to me is the same dead as alive, except I wouldn't have to see her wretched face every day._

He knew then that he was hopelessly in love with a psychopath

He truly hated her, but he couldn't escape. If he couldn't have her, at least he could try to protect her by moving through mirrors and spying. If she couldn't love him, then at least he could try to be the one she depended on. It was a disgusting relationship, but he couldn't help it.

Judging by her anguish over killing her own father though, it seems as if the dark curse would work. Maybe in the next world, wherever she was sending them all, he could truly be free.

Or even better yet, dead. It was the only way to escape her spell.

/

_Sidney_ _Glass_

Love is blind, he thinks, looking into the mirror. Regina has long left but the smell of her perfume lingers in his bed. It's hypnotizing, just like her.

He frowns as he catches a glimpse of a file sitting on his dresser. It's the file that he and Regina had compiled on the sheriff, and for a fleeting second, he feels a twinge of guilt. He's never pretended to be a saint, but he does feel uneasy about Regina's latest task.

He and the mayor had been friends for as long as he could remember, and he had always had a crush on her. She was attractive, but more importantly, she was powerful. As a reporter, power meant access. He's always had dreams bigger than this silly town, and if that meant catering to the mayor's wishes, physical or otherwise, then he would do it. At least, that's what he tells himself. In reality, it had been harder to use and discard the mayor than he thought. The town feared her, but she opened up to him. Her biggest fear, he knew, was that she would never be a good enough mother. She had come to him, crying, the night Emma Swan had come into town, afraid that she had lost Henry together.

It hadn't been difficult for her to convince him to spin some not-so-flattering stories about Emma in the paper. And even though Sidney discreetly watched from his window that night as she climbed back into her car, wet a tissue with a water bottle and dabbed it under her eyes before calmly reapplying her lipstick, he still felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that she had to go to such lengths to appear sad to try to invoke sympathy from her son.

Henry was an ungrateful, unappreciative brat anyway.

Though he knew next to nothing about law enforcement, when Regina whispered to him that there was nothing more attractive than a man in uniform, he was game. They spent countless hours together on his campaign, and he fell more and more in love with her. When Emma won, he assumed it had been the end of that.

He had underestimated Regina's wrath, something that he would never do again.

It should be shocking how easily he was able to deceive and betray the sheriff's trust but he rationalized that he never liked her anyway. Though whether this was because he was preconditioned by Regina not to or now, he couldn't tell. Did it matter?

He looked in the mirror again. Truth be told, all these things should bother him. Reporters should have some sense of morality. He was a grown man, ensnared in a web of rather childish deceit. The sheriff should respect _some_ boundaries of her closed adoption, Regina should stop trying to control everyone, and he should be traveling the world, reporting on more important matters.

Instead, he found himself waking up every day with no real intention of leaving Storybrooke. Every time he fancied the thought, he thought of Regina's face, her body, her _lips_, and he knew he could never leave her. It was utterly barbaric, but he would fight for her, die for her. And yet, she's never promised him a future, nothing beyond immediate pleasure. Just enough to keep him hooked.

He poured himself a stiff drink and downed the whole thing while he turned back to his bed. In his first (and last) session with Dr. Hopper, he was asked one question that he hadn't been able to fully answer.

_When you look in the mirror, do you like the person that you see?_

If part of his reflection ripples and Regina is standing next to him, then yes. He likes who he is when she's around. But if it's just him alone...he's not so sure. He likes to think that if his life weren't so dependent on this one women's opinion, things could be different. Things could be better.

He could feel more…free.


End file.
